


Let It Snow

by Cheezey



Series: Like Earth and Water [7]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-26
Updated: 2010-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-13 09:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheezey/pseuds/Cheezey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the most wonderful time of the year once again, and this time around Bushroot gets to make merry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrakkenWasHere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkenWasHere/gifts).



> Pure fluff, written as my part of a trade with DrakkenWasHere on DeviantArt. There are also some minor references to characters and events in my story _Tension Convention_.

_The weather outside is frightful…_

The holiday tune hummed along on the radio in the background, matching the icy winter storm blustering outside of the greenhouse. It was Christmas Eve, a few days after the dreaded winter solstice, the time of year that Bushroot had come to loathe. It was on this very day the previous year that Bushroot had committed one of his more notorious crime sprees. Vicious mall shoppers had attacked him while he had been Christmas shopping for his plants, and he in turn had taken out his anger and resentment on the entire holiday. Looking back on it, some of it had been fun. Summoning an army of trees, having those trees deck out Darkwing Duck with tinsel where the sun didn’t shine, and playing the Grinch by stealing presents all while wearing a silly Santa hat…

The holiday mischief had not ended well for Bushroot, though. Darkwing Duck made sure of that. The arrogant crime-fighter managed to freeze him and send him to the cooler with iron bars where he spent a few miserable days afterward. He might have been there longer, but one of the guards put a poinsettia—a Christmas gift, most likely—on the desk in the holding area, and Bushroot easily convinced it to nab the keys for him and help him escape. All it took was a promise to give it a luxurious home in his greenhouse afterward, which he happily made. The poinsettia was still, in fact, occupying a place of honor in the southern end of his greenhouse in a gold foil-wrapped pot full of rich organic fertilizer. True to his word, Bushroot had cared for it and made sure it thrived all year, and it was blooming even more vibrantly and beautifully than it had the year before.

This December, however, Bushroot felt nothing like he had last year. Instead of lonely, miserable, and resentful, he was content, happy… and wet.

He met Liquidator’s fluid eyes, which sparkled with the reflections of the greenhouse’s sun lamps and the holiday lights that hung from the ceiling alongside his vines and baskets. The water dog had just flowed in from the faucet, colder than usual from his run through the pipes in the winter weather, and Bushroot had greeted him with open vines and an exuberant hug. Never one to be outdone, however, Liquidator swished down and swept his partner in crime off of his roots with a wide grin.

“Are you looking for a pick-me-up this holiday season? Then try some Liquidator brand sparkling company! It’s guaranteed to satisfy better than any other stocking stuffer, leaves down!”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be back tonight.” The beaming smile on Bushroot’s bill made it clear how delighted he was to find out otherwise. “I mean, I know you had other important stuff to do.”

“Ah, but those presents have been signed, sealed, and delivered!” Liquidator held Bushroot close to him and gave him a soft and wet nuzzle before he set him down with a dramatic flourish. “Only one out of two of my boys may be speaking to me, but I left them both something under their tree.” He grinned. “But wait! There’s more. I also left Sweet Pea a present. I believe that plant managers everywhere recommend Blott’s one hundred percent organic fertilizer spikes as the treat of choice for their favorite fly trap, right?”

While Bushroot nodded back to him, Spike overheard Liquidator’s mention of his favorite munchie. He came bounding over with his tongue hanging out, begging shamelessly. “No,” Bushroot snapped with an air of exasperation. “It may be Christmas Eve, but you’ve had five already. Even kids don’t get to eat Christmas cookies all night, and if Santa was keeping a list on you, you’d fall on the naughty side anyway!”

Spike drooped a little, while Liquidator shrugged. “Sounds like he’s made his list and checked it twice,” he told Spike. “But if you act now and behave, the Liquidator might be persuaded to change even the most stubborn plant-duck’s mind come midnight when Christmas Eve turns into Christmas!”

“Maybe,” Bushroot conceded, while Spike continued to stand there and pant, ever hopeful. Bushroot reached over and petted Spike and then asked Liquidator, “So how is Sweet Pea?”

“I didn’t see her. I suspect Brooke makes Eddie keep her locked up in a trusty pet-proof cage or his room when they’re not home. The house was too clean for her to have been loose, and they were out.” He sneered a little. “Probably at her mother’s. Better them than me!”

Bushroot chortled at that. “Not a fan of your former in-laws?”

“Despite what I may have said about my cousin Morty, he always threw better family get-togethers. Research has shown that if nothing else, my husky cousin knows how to cook… a claim my former mother-in-law could never make without it being false advertising.”

“Well, I can’t really talk…” Bushroot’s voice took on an apologetic note. “Everything I make tastes like fertilizer or compost.”

A flurry of bubbles went through Liquidator as he laughed. “Yes, but yours is _supposed_ to.” He glided closer to Bushroot and put a wet hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think that I forgot to bring you a Christmas surprise, too! What Liquidator Claus lacks in magic for fitting large packages through tiny faucet-sized plumbing, he makes up for in value!”

The plant-duck’s blue eyes lit up. “You did? Oh, you didn’t have to get—”

“Of course I did!” Liquidator replied, drawing back in a dramatic manner as if he was playfully offended. “After all, if I left my ex a present, I certainly had to bring my VIP partner in crime a memorable gift, especially since knowing him, he got the Liquidator something big, big, big!”

“Maybe.” Bushroot smiled shyly, and then gave Liquidator a curious look. “You gave Brooke something?”

A mischievous grin spread across the water dog’s face. “Only the finest coal that wet hands could steal, directly deposited on her brand new white dining room rug!”

“You’re terrible, Buddy.” Bushroot chuckled, and then met his partner’s eyes. “I did get you little something, you know. Well, more like I made it.”

“Really?” Liquidator’s ears perked. “Is this a Christmas-only deal, or can I get an exclusive peek as your favorite customer?”

Bushroot folded his green arms with mock authority. “Sorry. It’s ‘Do Not Open Until Christmas’ only, I’m afraid.”

“Who would have guessed that a plant-mutant mad scientist would be such a stickler for holiday tradition?”

“I just… I like the idea of opening presents with you on Christmas morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to do that with. Even back before I was, well, this, I lived alone. I went to my parents’ for Christmas dinner, but…”

Bushroot did not need to finish the thought, for Liquidator knew his partner in crime well enough to know what depressing road his thoughts were taking a sleigh ride on. “Then the customer is always right!” Liquidator declared. “Tomorrow it is. On the special occasion that is Christmas, just this once, forty percent of the Fearsome Five will obey rules.”

The tactic worked, and Bushroot’s smile returned as he met Liquidator’s eyes. “Okay.”

“But in that case, in the interest of full disclosure, I have to inform you that if we’re sticking to tradition, there’s another one that we’re technically breaking and ought to rectify.”

“Oh?”

Liquidator grinned and pointed upward. “Indeed. We’re standing under the mistletoe, and as St. Canard’s resident plant manager, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what that means.”

Bushroot wrapped his vine arms around Liquidator and drew himself against his cool and wet body. As he leaned up to press his bill against the water dog’s mouth, he whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

  
**The End**   



End file.
